


Guardian of the Christmas Tree

by FancyKraken



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crack, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Interrupted Sexy Times, M/M, Murder Girls, Oral Sex, StarAccuser, environmentally friendly animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyKraken/pseuds/FancyKraken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Guardians have temporarily disbanded to get some rest and enjoy a much needed vacation. While on their own, Ronan gifts Peter with something he never could have expected in a million years. It was perfect, beautiful, and such a great surprise. At least until disaster strikes and Ronan and Peter need to call on Gamora and Angela for help, otherwise they may not make it out in one piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian of the Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Staubengel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Stuck With You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760761) by [Staubengel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/pseuds/Staubengel). 



> For the Staraccusemas prompt: Ronan loves Peter a lot, so he tries to find out something about Terran culture to make him happy with a gift or tradition from Peter’s home. 
> 
> For my darling, beautiful, and wonderful Staubengel. <3
> 
> This fic is intended to be set years after the events that took place in the awesome StarAccuser fic 'Stuck With You' by Staubengel. You DO NOT need to have read that fic to understand what is going on in this one, so don't worry if you haven't read it yet (but you should because it's awesome).
> 
> A mix of comic canon and movie canon. I love StarAccuser and I love Murder Girls, so why not have the best of both worlds? 
> 
> Unfortunately there was no time to acquire a beta before posting, so all mistakes are mine.

_Christmas, 1985_

“Peter. Peter, hand mama that ornament. No, the blue one,” Meredith Quill said, smiling down at her son who was playing with his transformers on the floor next to the half decorated Christmas tree. He picked up the sparkly blue ornament with snowflakes and stars on it, handing it to his mother. She hooked it on the branch in front of her and smiled.

While tree decorating wasn’t really Peter’s thing, he was happy to spend time near his mother and helping her when she needed it. She let him play with his toys while she decorated, singing softly along to the music playing in the background. His mother knew all the good Christmas songs by heart and because of that Peter knew them too. Well, almost. He still tripped up on a few lyrics here and there on various songs, but it never seemed to bother his mother when he did. She’d just smile and continue singing along with him.

Optimus Prime was just about to deal the final blow to Starscream when Peter paused, suddenly distracted by voice of his mother singing softly to the song that had just came on the stereo.

“ _He’s gone two thousand miles. It’s very far. The snow is falling down. It gets colder day-by-day. I miss you…”_ Peter watched as his mother moved about the tree hanging the rest of the glittering decorations on the few bare branches that were left. She caught him staring at her and she smiled at him, blowing him a kiss. But there was sadness in her eyes that Peter could see and he knew it had to do with this song. He never really understood why this song made her sad, but he imagined that it had something to do with the father he has never met. His mother had always told him he was an angel come from above, blessing her with love and gifting her with the best present she could ever ask for. Peter would always ask what that present was, excited to know what would make his mother so happy. And as always she would laugh and tell Peter that it was him.

“ _Sometimes in a dream you appear. Outside under the purple sky._ ”

Peter continued to watch his mother as she finished hanging the last ornament, a small gingerbread man with sparkly gumdrops and frosting. The tree was modest, nothing huge or grand like some of his friends may have in their homes. His mother and him lived in a small apartment and didn’t have room for a big tree. But they were both very content with what they had.

Stepping back, Meredith Quill surveyed the tree, scrutinizing the work she had done. “Well, Peter? What do you think?” She asked her son.

“I like it,” Peter said with a toothy smile.

“But do you think there’s anything missin’?” His mother looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

Peter looked hard, up and down and side-to-side, but couldn’t find anything amiss. Then he noticed the tip of it sticking out of the box on the floor. “The star!” He exclaimed.

“How’d you like to do the honours?” His mother grinned.

Getting up, Peter grabbed the star and hopped into his mother’s outstretched arms. She lifted him up until he was level with the top of the tree. Peter placed the star on top and smiled. It was a bit crooked, but it didn’t matter, it was perfect. Peter remained in his mother’s arms as they looked at the tree and its riot of bright and glittering colours.

Peter’s mother kissed him hard on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, my little Star-Lord.”

 

****

 

_Thirty-two years later on the planet Dragonfly._

It was long overdue for the Guardians of the Galaxy to have a vacation. After all the shit they’ve been through over the years it was hard to set aside alone time to just rest, decompress, and do whatever they liked. Peter couldn’t remember the last time he and Ronan had spent quality alone time together, so that’s why he was adamant that they go find a nice quiet planet to go camping on. Of course when the details of camping and what it entailed were discussed, Ronan put his foot down and refused. If he didn’t have to live it rough for no purpose then he didn’t want to do it. So they rented a lovely three-bedroom lakeside cottage on the planet Dragonfly, an Earth like planet with a sparse population and toted as the premiere vacation destination for that part of the galaxy.

At first Peter was all for it until he saw the price tag that this little getaway was going to cost them. Being a Guardian of the Galaxy was rewarding in many ways, but it didn’t always pay so well. Also dropping the hint that you were in fact, kinda the ‘leader’ of said Guardians didn’t do anything at all for getting a deal. At least camping was cheaper, Peter had whined to Ronan while they lay together in bed. Ronan had just rolled his eyes and gone to sleep.

The next morning Peter woke up with a box next to their bed and almost twenty thousand units in it. Ronan wasn’t in bed when he woke up so he couldn’t help but wonder whom he had murdered. Then he found a very hung over Rocket and passed out Drax in the common area and concluded that a night of gambling had taken place with the result of Ronan cleaning them out of the last of their money. He found his lover in the kitchen with Angela and Gamora drinking some of his weird Kree coffee/tea hybrid drink and kissed him on the cheek.

“How long you wanna book the place for?” Peter asked cheerfully.

Now they were here for the next three weeks, just the two of them and no one around them for miles. Upon arrival Ronan had taken Peter right on the front porch, fucking him hard into the smooth wood of the floor before Peter could even put the key in the door. Peter didn’t complain at all as he came hard, screaming out Ronan’s name just a few short minutes later with Ronan buried inside him.

This was going to be a very good vacation, he thought.

 

It was a week into their vacation when Ronan demanded that Peter go to the nearest city to replenish supplies.

Frowning, Peter looked up from his book at Ronan. “We have enough, we made sure of it and so did the resort.”

“Yes, but we have run out of tea,” Ronan said.

“How? We brought like, 8,000 boxes of the stuff.”

“Then care to explain why we have no tea?” Ronan crossed his arms, looking stern at his lover.

“There’s tea! You just gotta look for it!”

Ronan stared at him darkly. “There is not. You were in charge of the food supplies, and failed to bring the right amount of tea.”

“Bullshit! I brought enough, I know I did.” Peter complained, getting up from his chair. “Here I’ll show you!” He tugged on Ronan’s sleeve as they went into the kitchen. Going to the pantry, Peter opened up the door ready with a smartass remark at how the hell a skilled warrior of Ronan’s capabilities could not see all the damn tea they brought and give him hell for it. But when he saw the empty shelf he just stood mute with a smug Ronan at his side.

“Wha…” Peter stood amazed at the empty shelves.

“Do you doubt me now?” Peter couldn’t mistake the victorious note in Ronan’s voice at that question.

“The hell? There was some. I know it.” Turning to face Ronan, Peter frowned; trying to recall the boxes upon boxes he had unpacked for their trip. The resort that rented out the cabin provided all the basic supplies and necessities, but since they had requested such a remote location they were unable to get room service or daily supplies delivered to them. The cabin came with plenty of food and other things, but not the tea that Ronan liked. Now Peter was stuck with a grumpy tea-less Kree. Damn.

“Since this is your fault-“

“My fault?” Peter blinked. “Ro, it’s your tea, why should I be responsible for it?”

“It is your fault because you were the one who insisted on taking the cabin farthest from any civilization.” Ronan grumbled.

“Hey, you agreed to that too! I know you hate people, so I thought the further away the better.”

“And a fact that I have been very generous in displaying my gratitude,” Ronan leaned in, cupping Peter’s face.

Peter’s eyes widened at the touch, the familiar tingle of electric charge that always came with Ronan touching his skin making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Images of Ronan taking him over almost every possible surface of the cabin, Peter on his knees sucking Ronan off and Ronan doing the same to him, flittered through his mind.

Ronan leaned in closer, his lips about to touch Peter’s, but he stopped short of making contact. “All gratitude will now be withheld until I get my tea.”

Jerking himself out of Ronan’s grasp, Peter narrowed his eyes. “Are you really threatening withholding sex from me, all for some fucking tea?” Holy crap, what a diva Ronan was being. Yeah, Ronan could be damn difficult to live with sometimes. He still had his higher opinion of himself when it came to certain situations, but overall he had mellowed and grown more comfortable in letting himself just be Ronan. He still wasn’t completely over his exile from the Kree and Hala even after all these years, Peter knew, but Ronan was still happier than he’d ever been in his life. At least that’s what Peter had been able to read between the lines and surmise. Ronan wasn’t the biggest talker sometimes. Okay most of the time.

“Yes,” Ronan’s voice hummed with victory. He knew Peter wouldn’t last long without his touch.

Peter knew that too, damn him. “Fine. I’ll get you some of your damn tea. But I don’t want to hear any more bitching about it when I get back.” He marched back into the living room, grabbing his leather duster jacket to put on. Ronan met him at the front door just as Peter was pulling on his boots.

“I expect you to bring back enough to last the entire rest of our trip.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll buy out the stupid store for you,” Peter huffed. The things he would do for his boyfriend, jeeze.

Ronan kissed him lightly on the lips, trailing the tip of his finger down Peter’s cheek. “Trust me that the rewards from this will far outweigh the inconveniences,” his voice grew dark and husky on those last syllables.

Warm arousal pooled in the bottom of Peter’s belly at Ronan’s words. “Okay, better get this over with.” He ran out the door and to their transpiration parked at the side of the cabin.

Ronan watched from the doorway as his lover left. Once Peter was out of sight and there was no sign of him turning around for anything, Ronan nodded to himself. Peter wouldn’t be back for several hours, given the distance they were from the nearest city. It was time for Ronan to get to work.

 

Grunting, Peter carried up the large crate he held between his arms. Who knew tea could weigh so fucking much? And there was another crate just as heavy in the back of his vehicle. He’d practically bought the entire store out, the clerk more than happy to assist him with his purchases. Peter didn’t want to chance it and got every variety of tea the store had, even if he knew Ronan wouldn’t like some of the flavours they carried. Peter wasn’t big on tea himself, he’d always been a coffee fan, it being one of the things Yondu and his Ravagers got him hooked on at an early age. Apparently coffee or coffee like drinks was a universal thing as Peter soon found out after his abduction.

Dumping the crate onto the porch, Peter huffed and opened the door. If Ronan wanted his tea so badly he could come and carry it in himself. Put that Kree strength to some good use while Peter went up and had a shower.

“Alright, I got your tea!” He shouted as he shrugged out of his jacket. “But I ain’t carrying it in for you. That’s your job. That shit is heavy. And before you ask I got you enough to last…” Peter’s voice died in his throat as he walked into the living room and was met with a startling sight.

Christmas. The entire living room was decorated with colourful twinkling lights, ornaments, baubles, presents, and a great big tree sitting by the fireplace. Peter blinked and stood mute. This was not something he was expecting in a billion years. Something was wrong. Where was Ronan? Someone came and kidnapped his boyfriend and then threw up Christmas all over their rented vacation home. He began to become suspicious, quickly cataloguing the situation and the location of his guns; Peter moved to run out the door.

Just as he was about to bolt, Ronan stepped in from the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

Peter felt suddenly sheepish and gave a nervous laugh. “I, uh, was going to see if I left my jacket in the car.”

Ronan glanced passed him to his jacket hanging on the coat peg. “Try again,” he said darkly.

“Okay, I freaked. I came in here and saw all this and was worried something happened to you.”

Ronan was certainly taken aback by his statement. “And why would you assume that?”

“Lookit this place, Ro!” Peter waved his hands around. “It’s not something someone usually comes home to.”

“It does where you are from.” Ronan moved closer to the tree, touching one of the branches lightly with a long blue finger. “Are you upset?” He looked to Peter who was now in the middle of the living room, eyes bouncing between all the details that were there.

“Ro, I’m not upset, just confused.”

“It is December 25th on Terra, is it not?”

Peter looked at Ronan and his neutral expression. Except Peter knew better. He knew Ronan in so many ways, inside and out. He knew every piece of Ronan’s life, every emotion, every memory, every story from him from when the Infinity Stone connected them all those years ago and they shared each other’s memories. While Peter knew every moment of Ronan’s life, Ronan knew about Peter’s and that meant that Ronan knew about Christmas. Ronan knew that around this time of year Peter would always grow a little quieter, a little sadder for the few days of the Terran calendar that marked this holiday for so many. He knew that it held a special place in Peter’s heart because of his mother and the happy memories that it held for him. Peter hadn’t had a Christmas since he was 8-years-old and Ronan wanted to give him one as a thank you. And more.

“ _Step into Christmas, let's join together, we can watch the snow fall forever and ever_ …”

The music playing finally registered with Peter. This was one of his mom’s favourite songs during the holidays.

“Ro, I—“ Peter’s voice wavered, his breath catching in his throat. He studied the room closely, noting the tiny ceramic (or what material Peter couldn’t say) Santa and his eight reindeer flying over a small village on the mantle piece over the fireplace. The garland strung up over the entryway to the kitchen and back to the front door with glittering snowflakes strung on them. The tree was glowing with multi-coloured lights, casting the room in a warm and colourful glow. Stepping closer to the tree, Peter examined some of the ornaments. They weren’t the traditional kind that you saw on Earth, but they were perfect. Small jewels, tinsel (or what passed for tinsel here), colourful orbs, candy canes, flowers, and figurines hung from the branches. He reached out and ran a finger lightly over one of the ornaments: a crudely carved raccoon with a machine gun hung there.

Peter laughed, trying to keep from crying. “Lemme guess. Groot did this?”

“He did.” Ronan moved to stand next to Peter, letting him take it all in. He became concerned when Peter wouldn’t look at him. “Are you all right?”

Taking a shaky breath, Peter steadied himself to look at that gorgeous blue face he loved so much. His eyes were glassy with tears threatening to fall, but the smile he gave Ronan spoke of something so deep and beautiful that Ronan could never have thought existed in the universe. “Ronan, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You like it?” Ronan took Peter’s hand in his own.

“Like it? Babe, I love it.” Peter closed the distance and gripped Ronan in the tightest hug he could possibly give him. Burying his head in the side of Ronan’s neck he let the few tears he was holding back fall. He knew Ronan loved him, had known for years and even if they didn’t say it very often, this was by far the greatest declaration that Peter had ever gotten other than from his mother. “I love you,” he whispered.

Ronan placed a hand on the back of Peter’s head to hold him closer. “I love you, too, Peter Quill,” Ronan murmured.

They stood there holding each other for several minutes, neither one willing to let go first. Ronan wasn’t much for all the mushy and lovey dovey stuff, Peter had learned that pretty quickly, but this by far made up for all of that.

The music changed and the low, smooth voice of Elvis Presley singing _Here Comes Santa Claus_ floated through the room. Peter smiled to himself, remembering how much his mom loved this one.

His mom… a wave of love and sadness suddenly overtook Peter, pricking his eyes again with tears.

Ronan pulled Peter closer to him, as if sensing Peter’s sudden intense heartache and love for his mother.

“Where’d you get the music?” Peter said roughly.

“I have a contact whom was able to use their resources to acquire Terran music. They were happy to compile the list of songs I requested.”

They slowly pulled apart, neither one looking each other in the eye for the moment. While Peter and Ronan held no secrets from each other, he still needed to keep his macho image up in front of his boyfriend. He’d probably break some kind of man and/or outlaw code if he didn’t.

Peter quickly wiped at his eyes and turned to face Ronan. “Thank you, babe, this is… really, you got me.”

“Good.” Ronan smirked slightly.

“How’d you come up with all this?” Peter gestured to the tree and ornaments.

“I had some help,” Ronan hedged. “One of the terms of the deal brokered was that they would remain anonymous.”

“It was Gamora, Groot, and a extremely unwilling Rocket, wasn’t it?” Peter grinned.

Ronan frowned, his bottom lip moving out slightly indicating that he was suddenly irritated. Peter knew that as an automatic sign that he had guessed right and now Ronan would be annoyed.

Not willing to press the matter further and ruin the moment, Peter looked around some more, grinning at all the details the room held. It was near perfect. The lights, decorations, the presents—which made Peter’s inner child come through and bounce at the thought of opening—the music, and the love of his life were with him. The only thing missing was his family, the one that usually accompanied him on the Milano 2, and his mother. Maybe he could call up Gamora and round up the guys to come and share this awesome holiday with them? After he and Ronan had spent some time celebrating it alone of course.

“So, um,” Peter suddenly felt like his childlike self on Christmas morning again. “These presents,” he nudged one with the toe of his boot, “are just decoration or…?”

If Ronan had eyebrows he would have arched one at Peter right now. “They are real.”

Holy shit! He actually went and got Peter presents. Legit presents to put under this legit tree for this legit holiday that he was giving him, and then wrapping these—

“Why are you laughing?” Ronan sounded puzzled.

“The mental image of you wrapping these and wearing a Santa hat is too much,” Peter laughed. “Please tell me you did that?”

“I did no such act.”

Dang. But the mental image to Peter was still awesome. “Before this whole thing is over I’m going to get you in a Santa hat.” Peter grinned, his expression turning playfully dark. “Just a Santa hat.”

“I’d highly doubt you will,” Ronan deadpanned, but the hint of his lip quirking up in a smile confirmed to Peter that this was a challenge Ronan was willing to take on.

“We’ll see.” Peter refocused on the presents again and that giddy inner child quickly resurfaced. “Which one can I start on?”

“It does not matter, this is your tradition.” Ronan brushed past Peter to sit on the nearby couch. “They are all equally important.”

“Okay!” Peter squatted down, looking at the several boxes all-varying in size. Quickly deciding on a purple and silver wrapped one; Peter reached to grab it but quickly pulled back his hand with a yelp. “Holy shit!”

A pair of deep gold eyes stared at him from beneath the tree, watching his movements carefully. “Um, babe? You didn’t happen to get me a dog, did you? Because if you did that’s awesome, just some heads up would have been cool.”

Ronan sighed leaning forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “It’s still there I take it?”

“Yeah, whatever ‘it’ is.” Peter squinted at the creature, trying to make out what it could be. Whatever it was it was something he had never seen before. The thing blinked quickly, having its own personal staring match with Peter. He could make out a long nose, almost trunk like, and big ears, almost like a mouse on the side of its head. He couldn’t see the rest as the tree and presents hid it.

“Hey, buddy,” Peter smiled and slowly held out his hand. He didn’t think it would bite him it seemed friendly enough. The little creature slowly extended out its nose to sniff at Peter’s hand.

“They’re called ‘powts’,” Ronan commented. “They are apparently indigenous to this planet and are caretakers and guardians of the forests. I encountered this one when I went out to get the tree.”

Peter craned his neck to the side to get a better look and noticed the huge sack that was at the bottom of the tree beneath the supports. Dirt was still smudged around the thick fabric and Peter saw a root poking up from top of the opening. “Ro, did you rip this tree out of the ground?”

Ronan shrugged. “How else was I to obtain it?”

“I don’t know, cut it down?” The little powt seemed to almost flinch at that word. “Wait, you understood me?” Peter asked it, amazed that the little thing understood him.

“This land is protected by the resort and local government, to take something significant from the forest would incur punishment of some kind. Either a large sum of money or time in prison.”

“But you ripped the fucking thing out of the ground, how is that not ‘taking something significant from the forest’?”

“I’ll be returning the tree to its original place when we no longer need it,” Ronan said simply.

Peter just stared at Ronan, mouth agape and with an incredulous expression on his face. “Then this guy is…”

“Making sure that the tree remains unharmed and that I will return it.”

It was insane. It was absurd. It was hilarious. Peter kept looking between the powt, still under the tree, and Ronan sitting on the couch. The mental image of Ronan ripping up the tree and being berated by the little creature was too much and he just fell over on the floor laughing.

“Oh my god, Ro, this is too much. Did this dude bite you or anything? Please tell me it did!” Peter choked out between laughs. The powt came closer and began sniffing Peter’s face and hair, making little snuffling noises as it did. This only caused Peter to laugh harder.

Ronan watched the scene with a very unamused expression. As cute as his boyfriend was, he really didn’t understand his sense of humour sometimes. “It did not. When I explained I would be putting the tree back as I found it, it seemed to accept that. I intend to keep my word.”

Giggling, Peter leaned up on his elbows. “This is definitely going to be a Christmas I will not forget. Right, Sniffles?” Peter turned to the powt, now able to see that it had tiny antlers on its head, and green spots dotted over its rusty gold coloured coat. If Peter didn’t know better, he’d swear it was just a thirty-pound elephant shrew with antlers and a bad dye job.

“Sniffles?” Ronan said confused.

“Yeah, his name!” Peter grinned.

Ronan rolled his eyes.

“So, present time?” Peter kept grinning, that childish look on his face almost making Ronan smile in exasperation.

 

Peter unwrapped the last gift, new holsters for his blaster guns. It was beautifully made, and the leather straps would match his coat perfectly. His old holsters were practically falling apart, but Peter being too sentimental to get rid of them (he’d had them since he was 19-years-old) had kept putting it off. The new ones looked awesome as hell and it was time to replace the older ones. He gave Ronan a long, deep kiss in thanks, wrapping an arm around his waist.

The floor was littered with ripped paper, discarded ribbon and bows. Peter loved it. He rested his chin on Ronan’s shoulder, looking at his loot. It wasn’t much, but Peter never needed much of anything anyway. There were the usual new socks, a new mug with #1 Outlaw written in gold lettering on it, a rope necklace with a small blue bead strung in the middle of it. Groot had made that one apparently and Peter was extremely touched by the thought. Ronan had also gifted him with a book, and when he opened it up it was all written in Kree. It wasn’t a problem since he was pretty fluent in Kree thanks to Ronan, but a lot of these words were new to him. Puzzled, Peter tried to piece them together when Ronan grinned darkly, explaining that this was a book of ancient Kree sex rituals and different practices. Copies of it were hard to come by since it had been banned centuries ago, but Ronan had his ways of obtaining a one. Heat pooled low in Peter’s belly as he looked at some of the images. He couldn’t wait to get started.

“Thanks again, Ro,” Peter smiled. The sun outside had set; the living room was now glowing with all the coloured and white lights from the decorations. The emotional ballad of Queen’s _Thank God It’s Christmas_ was now filling Peter’s ears. He smiled.

“You’re welcome, Peter,” Ronan pulled him tighter. “Are you hungry?”

Peter waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “What kind of hungry are we talkin’ about?”

“The food kind…for now.” Ronan laughed and gave him a quick kiss. “I had the resort deliver Christmas dinner. It may not be the same as you are used to, but it should be enjoyable nonetheless.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, you really did go all out.”

Ronan nodded, getting up and making his way to the kitchen. Peter followed, pausing by the tree. He bent down to see the little powt still sitting there patiently. “Want something to eat, Sniffles?” The little guy blinked up at Peter, not moving. “Okay. I’ll bring you some water then.”

Humming along to _Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree_ , Peter followed Ronan into the kitchen. This Christmas was perfect. Brilliant. Really awesome, Peter had thought. Everything had gone perfectly so far.

But of course like all Christmas’s it wouldn’t be the holiday season without at least one minor or major disaster happening…

 

“SHUT THE DOOR! SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR!” Peter screamed at Ronan.

Ronan slammed the door shut, throwing himself against it so that it wouldn’t be pushed back in on him. The door shuttered violently, trying to push in as the creature on the other side tried to get through, but Ronan’s superior Kree strength managed to keep it from happening.

They stood there, silent, waiting in case anything would happen. Minutes slowly passed before Ronan relaxed a bit and slumped against the door. Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was not good. Not good at all. How could this have happened?

“Did he leave?” Peter whispered.

Ronan shook his head. Peter frowned, lowering himself to the floor of the hallway closet they were now trapped in. At least it was big enough for both him and Ronan to sit reasonably comfortably in.

“So, Merry Christmas!” Peter joked half-heartedly. Ronan levelled him with a death glare.

Things had been going really, really great. First the surprise Christmas from Ronan, the decorations, presents, even the dinner was fantastic. Peter was well and truly happy. And horny. They had just finished up dessert when Ronan proceeded to go into detail about what he was going to do to Peter; one such instance involved him being on his back, tied to the bedposts, blindfolded, and then spread open so Ronan could take his time. His cock was already hardening in his pants as he leapt up from the kitchen table to run to the bedroom, Ronan following close behind. In haste, Peter started undoing his pants as he passed the Christmas tree, but tripped. His arm shot out to grab hold of something to break his fall and he grabbed onto a branch, snapping it in half with the force of his grip.

That’s when it happened. As Peter was getting up, an ear splitting growl filled the room and the tree began to shake violently. The two of them froze, not understanding what was happening. Then suddenly the tree flew against the wall with a loud crack, decorations breaking and flying everywhere and in its place was a giant, snarling, beast with eyes glowing a deep gold. Sharp teeth seemed to be protruding from its mouth and the antlers were growing longer and sharper.

It was the powt. Somehow the damn thing was now the size of a grizzle bear and continuing to grow. His eyes were locked onto Peter.

Ronan flew into action, grabbing Peter by the waist and dragged him out of the room, the powt in close pursuit. There was no time to get weapons or fight back. The antlers on that thing would run either of them through in seconds. Ronan took the first option for safety, the hallway closet, and threw both himself and Peter inside, slamming the door shut.

So now they were trapped, with a very angry creature wanting to kill them waiting beyond the door.

“So I’m guessing they really take that guardian of the forest thing seriously, huh?” Peter mused.

“It would seem so,” Ronan muttered, annoyed.

“So now what?” Peter asked, but he already could guess the answer.

“We wait.”

 

_One hour and fourteen minutes later…_

“Is it still there?” Peter grumbled.

Ronan shrugged, not getting up to look. About an hour had now passed with little incident. Sometimes Sniffles would come back to the door, growling as he walked by, but it had been at least fifteen minutes since that happened.

With Ronan’s combat skills and Peter’s ingenuity for problem solving they could have gotten out by now. It would be hard, but they could have managed. However the consequences would probably be bad and a bit messy for both parties. Since the laws the government placed prohibiting disturbing the balance of nature were so strict, Ronan and Peter were most likely to be facing a hefty fine or even worse, prison time. Neither wanted that and neither wanted to incur more damage to the place they were staying in. They couldn’t exactly afford to pay the resort for a new cottage. They were still okay for now, so Ronan suggested they wait it out until the powt lost interest or shrunk down to its original cat-like size.

Peter got up, stretching his cramped body. The longer they were in the closet the smaller it seemed to get. He placed his hand on the doorknob, slowly turning, easing the door open by about an inch. A large gold eye stared angrily back him and a low rumble filled the closet. Peter quickly slammed the door shut.

“Nope, still there.”

 

_Two hours later…_

The Christmas playlist that Ronan had made for Peter just started replaying again for the 4th time. _Jingle Bell Rock_ started and Ronan groaned, putting his hands over his ears. Peter hummed along, tapping his foot against the wall.

“Ro, if we never get out of this and they find our withered corpses, promise me—“ 

“Shut up, Peter.”

 

_Four hours and twenty-nine minutes later…_

“ _Well, way up north where the air gets cold. There's a tale about Christmas that you've all been told,”_ Peter sang out.

Ronan wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

 

_Five hours and thirty-seven minutes later…_

“Y’know this song could be about you,” Peter chuckled as the sultry tone of Elvis’s _Blue Christmas_ repeated itself.

Ronan was tempted to just open the door and let the powt run him through.

 

_Six hours and forty-one minutes later…_

“ _Saaaaanta Claus is comin’ to town! Saaaan—“_

“I swear I will murder everything and everyone you love,” Ronan growled.

“You do realize that includes you, right?” Peter grinned.

“It is a death that will be welcomed with joyous open arms.”

It had now been eight hours and Peter’s stomach was definitely grumbling. He was tired, sore, and grumpy. Sniffles wouldn’t let them out of the closet, not even to go to the bathroom. What was even more frustrating was that Ronan had insisted on waiting this all out. Peter had his small communicator in his pocket; he could still call for help, but Ronan was being stubborn.

“C’mon. Gamora and Angela are just a few hours away. Let me call them,” Peter begged. “I’m gonna have to pee sooner or later and this space isn’t very big, if you get my drift.”

Scowling, Ronan got up and opened the door a crack. Faint light from the oncoming dawn cast the hallway in dim and eerie shadows. Ronan looked around, cautious that the powt could strike at any moment. He widened the door slightly, looking at the empty hallway. Could it be that the powt had finally left or shrunk back down? Listening intensely, Ronan opened the door enough for him to poke his whole head through. He was about to tell Peter he was going out to look around when Sniffles came charging out from the living room right at Ronan. He slammed the door just in time as an antler ran through the tough material of the door, leaving a fist-sized hole to look out of.

Peter watched this transpire with a bland expression, not surprised in the least. “So, can we call Gamora now?”

Ronan swore in Kree, angry that a thing like this would best the great Accuser. Gritting his teeth, Ronan nodded. “Do so.”

“Great!” Peter reached in his pocket for his communicator. “And hey! At least we got a bit of a view now!”

 

***

 

Angela arched her back, moaning out Gamora’s name in a breathy gasp, widening her legs so that the warrior would have more access.

Gamroa smiled, laving Angela’s wet cunt with another series of licks and nips. The breathy moans of her lover sent heat straight down to her own arousal, making her throb and become wetter. She slipped a finger inside Angela, enjoying the way the angel’s hips bucked up in response.

The two were enjoying time apart from the other Guardians, just like Peter and Ronan were doing. They had booked themselves a nice place near one of the cities in a penthouse overlooking a sprawling beach and ocean view. Gamora couldn’t remember the last time they were having such fun. She and Angela had become lovers not long ago, but each day was a new adventure and the bond between them was growing stronger and stronger.

“Ahhh, yes, my love!” Angela moaned as Gamora swirled her tongue over her clit.

_Beep!_

“Ignore it,” Angela panted as the room’s coms alerted them to a new message.

Gamora did so, continuing her work. Reaching up, she stroked and pinched one of Angela’s nipples, causing her angel to cry out with pleasure.

_Beep!_

Gamora sighed, annoyed, but continued pleasuring her girlfriend.

_Beep!_

“Oh my god,” Gamora grumbled.

“Gamora, ignore it.” Reaching down, Angela cupped Gamora’s face with her hand and guided her back up to kiss her. Angela tasted herself on Gamora’s tongue and she smiled.

They continued kissing and groping each other, feeling each other’s flesh. Gamora was now making her way back down Angela’s body, kissing and suckling on one of her large breasts…

_Beep!_

Groaning, Gamora just dropped her head between Angela’s breasts and let out a frustrated sigh.

Petting her hair, Angela shifted over so she could press the comm’s panel on the bedside table. There were four messages marked urgent. Angela frowned, not liking what she saw.

“Gamora, we may have a problem.”

“Uuuugh, I just want to fuck my girlfriend. Not getting to do so is a big problem.” She looked up, clearly annoyed.

_Beep!_

Another message. “That makes five,” the angel commented unhelpfully.

Huffing, Gamora rolled her eyes. “Get it over with then, Ange.”

Angela pressed the message button and within seconds the sound of Peter Quill’s voice filled the room. “Gamora! Angela! It’s Peter and Ronan. Call me now, it’s an emergency.”

Next message. “No, really guys, I wouldn’t call if it were bad. Please.”

Next message. “Pick up, for the love of everything!” Peter’s voice was growing more desperate with each message, Gamora started to become worried.

Next message. “Ronan and I are trapped in a closet with a huge man eating beast outside. We’re stuck, I’m hungry, and I gotta pee.”

Well that was different. The two warriors looked at each other, puzzled.

The last message played. “Okay, I’m calling every hotel in the city you’re staying in and will have someone come up to your room to get you. If that doesn’t work then the police.”

“I guess they are in need of our assistance,” Angela said softly.

“I guess,” Gamora frowned. Reaching over she picked up the device and called Peter back.

Peter answered, relief clear in his voice. “Oh thank you lord.”

“Peter what the hell is going on?” Gamora sounded less than happy.

“Um, kinda a funny story actually,” Peter started in on the account of Ronan’s surprise then gave a funny yelp of surprise. “Hey, Ro—“

Peter was cut off and replaced by Ronan. “Gamora, Angela,” the Kree’s deep voice came on the line. “We are trapped and require assistance from the outside. Our current position doesn’t allow us the advantage to attack or defend ourselves. Your aid is greatly needed.” He began to explain the details of the problem, layout of the cottage, and the defenses the powt possessed. Gamora and Angela listened intently.

When Ronan was finished they both started at each other, knowing that they would have to go and help their friends. “We can be there in about three hours,” Gamora said. “Will you be safe until then? If not I will call one of the authorities—“

“No! No authorities!” She could hear Peter exclaim from the background.

“Okay, then. We’re on our way.” Gamora said. “Just try not to piss it off further.”

“We won’t,” Ronan answered then hung up.

She rolled of Angela, lying beside her. The two women looked up at the ceiling, neither saying any thing for several moments. “You know it will only take about two hours to get there.” Angela finally said.

“I know,” Gamora smiled, turning to look at her girlfriend. “But we were having so much fun.” She smiled wickedly, trailing her fingers between Angela’s breasts, then down her stomach and lower.

Angela licked her lips, smiling. “Yes, we were.”

Gamora quickly rolled on top of her, straddling her hips, “So, which dildo do you want me to fuck you with?”

Tilting her head to the side, Angela considered her options. “Why the green one of course,” she smiled darkly.

Gamora grinned, leaning down for another deep kiss before going to get her ‘weapon’ of choice.

 

****

 

Peter blew out a frustrated breath. It had been nearly two hours since he had called Gamora and Angela for help and he was getting extra agitated. Ronan just sat there silently, not responding to any conversation Peter tried to start. At one point Peter thought he may be asleep. He had caught Ronan once sleeping with his eyes open. Waving a hand in front of the Kree to check, Peter almost had his wrist snapped in half when Ronan grabbed it. Definitely awake then.

Peter was bored, tired, and hungry. He wracked his brain trying to figure out something to do. Sharing stories and life experiences was out since they both literally knew everything about each other. Twenty questions were out as well as Ronan would only answer with a grunt or not at all. The round robin story was a complete dud after one sentence. Peter even tried the ‘how many fingers am I holding up’ game, but again it met with failure. Ronan just wasn’t having any of it.

But maybe there was one thing that Peter could get Ronan to participate in. A thing that, while he claimed he had a strong will to resist, wasn’t something he could resist at all.

Shifting to his knees, Peter crawled over to straddle Ronan’s lap. “Hey, Ro, I’ve been thinkin’…”

 

****

 

“What is this noise?” Angela scrunched her nose in confusion as she and Gamora carefully opened the front door. The Christmas playlist was still going strong and filling the air with holiday cheer.

“Terran music, I guess,” Gamora answered quietly. “Come, let’s get this over with.”

The two warriors slowly entered the hallway. Angela had her sword drawn, while Gamora her blasters. They both paused by the entrance to the living room before giving each other a slight nod to proceed. They didn’t dare call out for Peter and Ronan until they were able to get a handle on the situation or defeat the powt.

Stepping into the living room, Gamora and Angela were met with a loud snarl and a creature that filled almost the entire room. Angela angled her sword for attack and Gamora raised her guns. The powt just continued to snarl, not making any move to attack.

Moments passed and no one moved. Angela became concerned when the powt wouldn’t move or stop growling. “They had said it would try to attack.”

“They did…” Gamora said puzzled. She scanned the room again, taking stock of everything, it’s place, the advantages and disadvantages of the layout, and potential exits. Then it clicked. “The tree,” she said to Angela, not taking her focus off the powt.

“The tree, yes, but how—oh! Of course, I understand.” Angela focused on the powt, raising her voice to speak to him. “I am Angela of Heven and I and my mate are not here to harm you or that which you protect.” Very slowly she lowered her sword, the powts eyes watching her every move. “We have come to help.”

The powt studied her, seeming to think over her words.

“Put your guns down, Gamora,” Angela said in a low voice.

Gamora did so, hooking them back on her holsters at her side.

This immediately seemed to calm the powt. Slowly he raised his trunk, extending it forward, first to Gamora then Angela, sniffing each of the warriors all over. When he seemed satisfied with the results he continued to stare at them.

Gamora made a move to step forward, but the powt growled at her. “Okay, maybe you?” She moved back, her hands up in front of her in a gesture of no harm.

Nodding, Angela stood her ground. “We wish to help you return the tree to its home. Is that what you wish?”

The powt blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Gamora muttered.

“Hush,” Angela said, and then refocused on the powt. “Will you allow me to take the tree? I will do it no harm.”

Just when both of them were beginning to doubt that the powt would ever move and that they would be either trampled or impaled to death, the powt shifted sideways, opening up access to the tree.

Angela smiled. “Thank you.” She stepped forward slowly, making her way to the tree lying on its side. Gamora made to go after Angela, but the powt growled at her.

“I think it likes you more,” Gamora commented.

“Then I shall return this and you handle the others.” Angela reached the tree, slowly righting it and picking it up. She carefully moved it back towards the entranceway of the living room. “I will need your help to return this, powt.”

“I don’t think it can exactly fit through doorways,” Gamora half-joked.

As if to prove her wrong, the powt suddenly let out a grunt, shaking his body from side to side. The two warriors watched in awe as the powt started to shrink. His skin rippling and muscles contracting as he got smaller and smaller. Moments later there sat the powt, now the size of a large cat, on the carpet. Shaking his head as if to clear the lingering effects of the transformation, he blinked up at Angela.

She nodded in approval. “Now then, where does this belong?”

The powt got up, trotting over to the front door. It looked back at her as if to say to follow.

“Happy tree-planting,” Gamora smirked.

Angela smiled back and followed the powt out the front door and down the steps outside, tree in arms.

Gamora sighed, looking around the room and all the tipped over furniture. Everything was a mess, but nothing seemed to be beyond repair. “Peter? Ronan?” She called out.

Silence.

Frowning, Gamora strained her ears to see if she could hear any signs of her two comrades, but it was a bit difficult with Chuck Berry singing about someone named Rudolph and how he had to run. She went over to the control panel for the music and switched it off. She heard a muffled grunt and something bump against a wall. “Peter?” She called out again.

Ronan had mentioned that they were trapped in the closet, so maybe it was just a case of them not hearing her over the music. Gamora went out into the hallway and saw the closet door, a little worse for ware. She approached, hearing another muffled grunt followed by a moan. It seemed that Peter and Ronan had found something to occupy their time.

Smiling wickedly, Gamora grabbed hold of the doorknob and yanked open the door. She was met with the sight of Ronan’s bare back and ass with Peter’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Ronan had him pinned up against the wall as he thrust hard inside of him. Peter’s head was thrown back against the wall, panting and moaning with eyes shut tight.

“Oh, god, yeah Ro,” He gasped. “Fuck. I’m gonna come soo—“ As he moved his head down to bite along Ronan’s jawline he saw Gamora standing there, hands on her hips. His eyes widened comically. “Fuck!”

Ronan stilled, immediately feeling the change in atmosphere.

“H-hey, Gamora,” Peter said shakily. “Um, do ya need help?”

“No,” she smiled sweetly. “Do you?”

“Ummm…” Peter swallowed.

But Gamora saved him from continuing. “Ronan, when you’re done being balls deep in your boyfriend, I’ll be in the kitchen.” Then she quickly shut the door. 

Walking to the kitchen she snorted as she heard a muffled, “well don’t stop!”

 

****

 

Christmas was saved. Or something. Peter didn’t really know what, but something happened and something was now un-happened and that’s all that mattered.

Sitting at the kitchen table with Ronan, Gamora, and Angela, Peter gulped at his coffee and spooned another large helping of mashed potatoes on his plate. Food was good. Food was everything. It had been nearly thirteen hours since he last ate and he was starving.

Angela and Gamora just watched as Ronan and Peter ate their leftover Christmas dinner. The whole story and details had come out between bites and chews of food, so they were now completely up to date on the situation.

“So Sniffles helped you back alright?” Peter asked Angela.

“He did. He seemed most grateful of the return of the tree that was stolen.”

“Borrowed,” Ronan muttered.

“Borrowed, then,” Angela shook her head.

“So, um, thanks for everything,” Peter said sheepishly, looking at the two women. “Sorry we had to interrupt your vacation.”

Gamora shrugged, unperturbed. “That’s alright. We were lucky that no one had our room booked right after us, so we’re staying a couple extra days.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Peter’s face brightened.

“Yeah, although we unfortunately budgeted for our original stay and the units we currently have probably won’t cover the extra nights.” Gamora feigned disappointment. Angela smiled behind her sip of coffee.

“Yeah, that sucks,” Peter agreed. “Maybe you could save up more for next—OW! What the fuck, Ro?” He frowned, reaching down to rub his leg where Ronan had kicked him under the table.

“I believe they were wanting some compensation for their help,” Ronan deadpanned.

“Geeze, man, I know that. You didn’t have to break my leg,” Peter complained. He turned his attention back to the women. “Yeah, okay, a couple of extra days on us.”

“And a day at the spa,” Angela added brightly.

“Oooh, yes!” Gamora smiled.

“Ugh, fine, yes, whatever.” Peter grumbled. “Just… don’t go crazy and get wrapped up in some super rare seaweed or some shit. Ronan already cleaned Rocket and Drax out of their savings and you know Groot’s too smart to gamble it away.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll just come wrapped in the skin of our enemies,” Gamora grinned.

Peter made a face. “Um, ew.” He put his fork down, his appetite momentarily ruined.

Soon, Peter was yawning, his eyes drooping heavily.

“Go to bed, both of you,” Gamora commented, noting the dark bruises under Peter’s eyes. “Ange and I are going to head back. We have tickets to a show tonight and we’re not going to miss it because of you two getting your asses stuck in some closet.”

Instead of replying, Peter just yawned. The food settling in his stomach had made him very, very sleepy all of a sudden. “Y’okay.”

Thanking Gamora and Angela again, Ronan and Peter saw them out the door. When the warriors had left, Ronan wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and they made their way up the staircase to their room.

Before they entered the bedroom, Peter lightly shoved Ronan against the wall. “Hey,” he smiled. “Honestly though, thank you. Fucking up and all, this was really, really great.” Leaning in, he gave Ronan a slow and sensual kiss.

Ronan moved into the kiss, letting Peter have his way. Breaking apart he gave Peter a small smile. “I am pleased that you loved it so, as I love you so.”

“D’awww. I love you, too,” Peter laughed. “Just maybe one thing for next year.”

Ronan cocked his head to the side in question.

“Maybe skip the tree?”

Ronan snorted, nodding in agreement as he lead Peter into the bedroom for some much needed sleep.

 

 

**Companion Playlist**

****

**[[TRACK LISTING](http://fancykraken.tumblr.com/post/135763476433/a-mix-for-all-those-guardians-celebrating-the)] [[LISTEN HERE](http://8tracks.com/fancykraken/awesome-holiday-mix-vol-1)]**


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